


I Walk the Line

by thekitgregoryblog



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: #confirmed, Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, College, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Sugar Daddy by whatthebodygraspsnot, Jamie is 22, M/M, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers is bisexual, Steve is 31, but doesn't realize it, don't worry bucky is in the story im not catfishing yall, mj is a lesbian queen, steve rogers is kinda a sugar daddy, with a lil angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 15:47:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17604245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekitgregoryblog/pseuds/thekitgregoryblog
Summary: Inspired by Sugar Daddy by whatthebodygraspsnot (go read it, it's fantastic)Jamie Buchanan is just trying to get by as a college student at NYU, and is at the end of her rope when she runs into Steve Rogers. A handsome lawyer with dad jokes up the wazoo, Jamie is hesitant about befriending him and struggles between letting Steve help her out or trying to get her life together on her own. Though, things don't exactly turn out the way she expected.





	I Walk the Line

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sugar Daddy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3182744) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



“We’re letting you go.”

Jamie felt her stomach drop out from under her. “W-What?”

Pierce sighed pointedly and rand a hand through his graying hair. “We decided that it’s best to let you go, hun.”

Jamie took another moment to process his words. She’d only been working at Shield Your Plate for a couple of months and she swore she’d gotten her shit together this time. She even thought that Pierce, the owner, actually seemed to enjoy having her there compared to the others. “But.. why?”

“Jamie.” Pierce gave her a look like she should know what the hell he was talking about. “You come in late almost half the time and even when you do get here, it’s like you’re on another planet.” 

She opened her mouth to say something, but he wasn’t technically wrong. She did call in to say she was running late pretty often, mostly because she was either rushing straight from classes at NYU or from her shit apartment that was two subways and a bus ride away; when she did manage to get to work, she was already stressing about what she had to get done next. Not the best combination for someone desperately in need of a job, but it had gotten her this far and she really couldn’t afford to miss a rent payment. Again. 

Pierce’s eyes softened as he looked her over, guilt flashing across them for a brief moment before he let out another sigh. “Look, this isn’t about you personally. We just gotta do what’s best for business.” He placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “You understand, right?”

Jamie itched to shove his hand away but instead felt herself nodding, plastering on a fake smile. Pierce dropped his hand and instead of feeling a weight lift off her shoulders, it only made the weight of his words heavier. She listened numbly as he told her that he had a paycheck ready for her for the previous week’s work, gathering her things and taking the envelope from him as she headed out the door. She was barely out on the sidewalk before the door closed behind her, leaving her standing outside the diner looking like an idiot in a uniform. The whole ordeal had lasted maybe ten minutes and she clutched the paycheck in her hand, the only concrete thing she had left in her life. 

Swallowing the humiliation, she slowly made her way down the busy sidewalk, sidestepping around hurried businessmen and socialite mothers pushing their strollers with lattes in hand. She tried to shake the familiar knot of fear clenching in her stomach by mumbling something to the effect that things were gonna work out like they always did, but this time felt more final than the others. A road sign that said “no entry” in bold, horrible text with no detour. 

Something was buzzing incessantly at her side, and she dug a hand into her purse to pull out a shitty prepaid phone. It was about all she could afford at the moment with rent, groceries, and tuition but it didn’t help that she felt like someone’s technologically challenged grandmother every time she used it. 

Flipping it open, she pressed it against her ear and answered, “Hello?”

“Jamie, what the fuck happened to you?”

_ Oh, god. _ It was Peter, probably calling from school. They took a lot of the same classes together so he was usually the one to clue her in when she didn’t make it to campus. Which was more often than she’d like to admit. “What do you mean?”

“Are you really telling me you don’t remember what today is?” Peter sighed heavily into his receiver and it was like Jamie could physically see him rubbing his temples. “Why did I even ask that- of  _ course  _ you don’t know.”

She came to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk. “Pete… what’s going on?”

“Our marketing midterm. Ring a bell?” Something shuffled on the other end of the line, sounding like feet pattering down a hallway. “It was today at 11.”

“Wait, what?” An imaginary foot immediately drop-kicked her stomach into the goddamn Hudson River at his words. “No- no, there’s no way. I had it written down for next week.”

Peter let out a breath through his teeth, an exasperated wisp of a sound. “I just walked out of the room; I promise you it was today.” 

Jamie frantically tore through the contents of her purse, tossing gum wrappers and chapstick tubes to the side as she pulled out her planner. It was already falling apart after a month or so, a sick metaphor for her life at the moment, and she flipped to today’s date while ripping a few weeks out in the process. “There’s gotta be a mistake. I only have work written down for today.”

“J, I’m sure you do, but we both know that scheduling isn’t your strong suit.” 

“But I have it written down for  _ next _ week.” She tapped the hastily scrawled note as if it would make it true. Hell, maybe if she tapped it three times it would transport her to fucking Oz so she wouldn’t have to deal with this clusterfuck of a situation.

The footsteps slowed on the other end of the line, and Peter’s voice calmed a fraction. “Look, I know this is a shitty thing to happen to you right now but I think you should email Dr. Banner. He might let you take the exam later.” He snorted darkly. “More so than Stark would anyway. Fuckin’ hard ass.”

Jamie could feel panic rising like bile in her throat. “If I can’t take the exam, I’m screwed. Like lose-my-scholarship screwed.”

“You’re not screwed, Jamie-” But she was barely listening by that point because all she could think about was how this was the worst possible thing that could happen to her today.  _ How in the  _ fuck _ could this be happening? _

Just then, a man decided it would be a good idea to run through her instead of stepping around like a decent human being and effectively knocked the planner out of her hands, scattering pages like depressing confetti. Her phone fared no better as it landed about five feet away, the screen cracking and fading to black. 

This was likely the most tragic day in modern history. Jamie Buchanan, crouched on the pavement trying to pick up the pieces of her scattered life on 68th and Madison. 

Then she looked up and realized her last paycheck was lying in the street underneath the dripping tire of a taxi. 

She laughed. It was either that or burst into tears. In one morning she lost her job, missed her midterm, and managed to destroy the paycheck that was supposed to keep her afloat for at least another week. She had to be on the set of a Lifetime movie or some shit; no way this happened to people in real life. No goddamn way. 

Shoving was was left of her planner and phone into her purse, Jamie forced herself to keep walking down the street. God, how could she have been so stupid to think that she could actually make this  _ work _ . Coming to New York with some big idea that she could have a job, go to school, and pay for an apartment? Maybe she should’ve listened when people told her it was only a pipe dream. She found herself standing at the corner of the street, looking out at the kaleidoscope of life bustling back and forth in it’s daily routine and thought that no one would even notice if she left. In a city of millions, it didn’t matter if one person struck out at their chance of surviving. Hell, it probably just evened out the competition in the real-estate market. 

A dangerous idea crept to the forefront of her mind as traffic flew past her, whipping her hair around her face. Her eyes fell to the pavement littered with scraps of paper and cigarette butts. It would only take a couple of steps, really. Two to get her into the street, another to push her into the intersection. After all, she didn’t have much to lose and she’d be living god knows where when she couldn’t afford rent next week. Since she’d probably think about doing this then she might as well get it over with now. Spare herself at least a little humiliation.

_ C’mon, Jamie _ . She tightened her grip on the strap of her purse.  _ Don’t be a fucking wimp _ .

Swallowing her fear and whatever else was making its way up her throat, she took a step towards the street. Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ . 

Another step. Her boot hit a puddle on the asphalt.  _ God- Peter, MJ... I’m so sorry... _

Her foot lifted to catapult her in front of the cab rounding the corner-

“Hey!” An arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her backwards onto the sidewalk. Someone slammed their car horn, probably the cab driver that drove by with a raised middle finger, and Jamie’s heart leapt in her chest. All she could do was grip onto the arm still holding her upright because  _ holy fuck how am I not dead right now. _ It was another few moments before she realized someone was speaking to her, and she glanced up at the person who’s arm she was crushing in her hand. 

A man was looking down at her, concern creasing the forehead above blue eyes blown wide with worry and adrenaline. His lips were moving, but her brain still couldn’t compute what in the hell he was trying to say to her. Instead it focused on the fact that he was wearing a suit that probably cost more than three months of her college tuition, and that the suit was very,  _ very _ close to her work uniform that still had grease stains splattered across it. 

She blinked twice. “Wh..what?”

“Are you okay?” The man spoke in a calm voice, as if he was afraid that if he spoke too loudly Jamie would run back out into the street. “Were you hurt or anything?”

She slowly shook her head and managed to take a breath in through her nose. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the fact that she wasn’t currently squashed like a bug on the pavement, and didn’t trust herself to say anything other than  _ holy fucking shit _ . If the guy didn’t think she was crazy for trying to off herself in broad daylight, he most likely would if she could only answer in swear words. A cramping sensation seized hold of her hand from where it was latched onto the man’s arm and she stared at it for a beat too long before remembering to remove it. All of her reactions were delayed, like a video game character with shitty graphics. And the man seemed to notice that she wasn’t quite coherent yet as another one of his questions went unanswered. 

Another beat passed before she snapped to attention. “Sorry...could you, uh- could you say that again?”

An almost amused smile crept onto the man’s lips though his eyes were still worried, not quite making up his mind if he should be humored or concerned by Jamie’s lack of response. Her cheeks flushed under his gaze as she realized how she looked and sounded to someone relatively sane, but all he did was nod his head to over to a less busy section of sidewalk. “How ‘bout we walk you over there, yeah? Get you somewhere less hectic.”

Jamie felt herself nod, still in video game mode, and the guy placed a hand lightly on her back to lead her over there. Most people politely walked around them as they bee lined to a spot in outside of a storefront window, and Jamie marveled at the sudden fact of people not being complete assholes. Funny that when you’re with someone who looks like they own the ground you walk on, people decide running straight into you isn’t a good idea.

She must’ve snapped out of her altered state at some point because she caught herself sneaking glances at the man beside her every so often as they made their way across the sidewalk. Maybe it was the fact that she was still on a high from  _ almost dying _ but damn...the guy was handsome. Handsome in the way that Jamie had to physically stop herself from staring at him for too long, focusing her eyes anywhere but his face or suit or anything on him in general. 

Except of course she couldn’t fucking focus enough to side-step a goddamn crack in the sidewalk, which sent her tipping forward half a foot until the man saved her from falling on her face for the second time in one day. Smooth.

“God  _ fuck _ ..” She mumbled as she regained some semblance of balance but apparently it wasn’t quiet enough to escape the guy’s hearing. 

He chuckled lightly, making sure she was steady on her feet before he slid his hand in the pocket of his pants. “Interesting choice of words for the situation.”

Her face flushed once more as she looked up at him. “Sorry...today, um-” She sighed, trying to find the best choice of words but all that came out was, “This morning just really sucked.”

An eyebrow raised in answer. “Yeah, I’d believe it, considering what just happened.”

Jamie let out a little groan, her hands coming up to cover her face as redness continued to bloom across her cheeks. “You really weren’t meant to see that.” Technically nobody was until she was wiped out flat on her ass but she really hadn't made it that far in the process. She didn’t even complete the ‘not being noticed’ portion of her stupid plan.

“Well, I’m glad I did seeing as the other option wouldn’t have us in conversation right now.” She peeked through her fingers to see him give an encouraging smile, though she could still see the concern in his eyes. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

She swallowed hard. Sure, he seemed like a nice enough guy, too nice really for a guy that looks the way he does, but she didn’t know if it would be a good idea to spring her life’s drama on him in one morning. Thankfully, he seemed to sense her apprehension around the topic and held up his hands in mock surrender, gently saying, “Hey, I get it, none of my business. Totally cool.”

They stood in silence for a bit longer, Jamie silently trying to figure out the best way to gracefully exit the situation without looking like more of a dumbass, before the man spoke again. “Look, I was on my way to get coffee when I saw you, so why don’t you join me? Walk off some of whatever’s bothering you.”

She paused, looking up at him curiously as she took in his offer. He wasn’t...he wasn’t inviting her to get coffee with him, was he? After  _ that _ shit show?

“Uhh..” Jamie glanced down at her purse, feeling a bout of shame as she realized that she couldn’t exactly afford to be fucking around with her money right now or lack thereof. “I wasn’t really planning on buying coffee this week..”

He waved his hand through the air, swatting away the idea like it was nothing. “Eh, it’s on me.”

A laugh bubbled in Jamie’s chest. Was this guy for real? First, he saved her from the most fucked life decision and then he had the audacity to be so kind as to invite her to get coffee? Granted, it was only coffee and not a five star hotel but  _ still _ . She eventually decided she must be stuck in some form of alternate reality and that she should just go with it while it lasts. Even with the chance that this guy could be a psycho that gets off on helping fucked-up girls in trouble.

“Well, uh..okay.” The words left her mouth almost unwarranted but the man just smiled and motioned them in the direction she guessed he was heading in before he jumped head first into her bullshit. She was surprised at how quickly he matched her pace what with his legs being at least as tall as her waist but he walked alongside her with more elegance than most men his size. 

It wasn’t until they were almost to their destination that the man turned to her with an urgency motivated by what seemed like embarrassment, and playfully clonked himself on the forehead. “God, I didn’t even introduce myself, did I?” He stuck out a hand towards her, the watch on his wrist gleaming silver in the light. “I’m Steve.”

Jamie adjusted the purse strap over her shoulder before gingerly taking the guy’s hand. It was warm and slightly calloused, the high points of his palm a rough contrast to the softness of his skin. She wondered briefly if he played a sport of any kind, considering he didn’t seem like the kind of guy to work much with his hands. “Jamie.” 

Steve smiled and then turned back to the busy street in front of them. “Nice to meet you, Jamie.”

 

* * *

 

When Steve asked her to coffee, Jamie was assuming they’d be stopping at a chain or a Starbucks at least from the way he dressed. Starbucks was on the higher end of the coffee spectrum so it wasn’t a regular trip for her; she usually settled on a 99¢ 7-Eleven roast. 

What she was NOT expecting was to be sitting at a white linen covered table across from Steve inside a goddamn French patisserie. Everyone around them was dressed in either suits or designer clothes and Jamie felt the urge to pull the tablecloth over her splotchy apron. Thank god you could barely see her boots from under the table or else some rich person was likely to have a conniption.

A waiter clad in black and white attire sauntered over and filled their glasses with what looked like sparkling water. “Do you still need a few minutes to look over the menu?”

The  _ menu _ ? Jamie barely saw Steve nod to the waiter out of the corner of her eye because she was too focused looking at the  _ fucking beverage menu _ suddenly in front of her to form any coherent thought. Just by scanning the list of items she could feel her bank account drop into negative digits. 

“So,” Steve said, effectively stealing Jamie’s focus back to the matter at hand, “What kind of coffee do you like? Dark roast, light roast…” 

She watched as he leaned back in his chair, studying the menu in a relaxed manner, and it was a stark contrast to the way she sat just a few feet away. Her hands hadn’t moved from twisting together in her lap and she was only mildly worried that if she touched anything it might immediately combust into flames. 

“Um...” Jamie couldn’t even bring herself to look back at the menu.  _ Was Breakfast Blend an answer? _

Steve glanced up to study her instead and he probably noticed the uncomfortable air surrounding her because he sat the menu down for a moment. “Everything okay?”

No, everything was  _ not _ okay. This place charged eight damn dollars for a drip coffee and that was the cheapest thing they offered. Besides fucking water. 

Steve leaned his elbows on top of the table, folding his hands together as he looked at her like he understood what might be going on inside her head. “You don’t have to order anything if you don’t want to, but I meant it when I said it was on me. I promise it’s not a big deal.”

Jamie let out a sigh that she had been holding in for what felt like hours, and nodded slightly. If it’s really not a big deal to him, she should be calm about this whole situation. Act like it’s almost everyday some big shot New Yorker asks her to get eight dollar coffee. Completely normal. 

But she still couldn’t make up her mind about what to order so she ended up saying, “You pick. Surprise me.”

That answer earned her a small laugh from Steve who picked up his menu again. “Alright, but I’m warning you. If you don’t like it, I’m getting you something else.” 

Something about that phrase made a small fuzz on happiness dance about in the pit of her stomach but she brushed it away as quickly as she came. This was a one time thing; she wasn’t fooling herself into thinking that she was going to rendezvous with Steve on a regular basis. Best to close herself off from any emotional attachment before shit went south like it had a tendency to do. 

The waiter came and left once more with Steve giving him their order, and then that left them with sparkling water and a question from Steve’s side of the table.”Not to press the issue, but are you sure you’re okay?”

Jamie bit her lip. “I’m not sure you wanna open that can of worms.”

“Fair enough,” Steve nodded, running a hand over his mouth, and Jamie  _ totally _ didn’t notice he was sporting an impeccably groomed beard. He then looked at her a bit more seriously than she was expecting and said softly. “But people don’t walk into traffic for no reason.”

Jamie held her breath at his words, holding his gaze as she thought about the events of the morning. Tears unexpectedly began to prickle at the corners of her eyes and she forced herself to blink them away because she was not going to cry. Not at that fancy ass table in that fancy ass restaurant with all those fancy ass people drinking their eight dollar coffee. Glancing away from Steve, she hung her head towards her lap and squeezed her eyes shut. She was  _ not _ going to cry.

“I just-” She faltered, letting out a shaky breath before finding her voice again. “I’m just kind of screwed right now and… I didn’t exactly see another way out.”

She didn’t know if she wanted Steve to say something in response to that but she pressed on anyway. It was like as soon as she even spoke about it, the floodgates opened and the words poured out of her mouth against her control. “I was fired from my job this morning, which wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t really need the money but I’m about to be weeks behind in rent for my apartment and I still haven’t paid off this month’s tuition cost. Then, I find out that I missed my Marketing midterm worth at least 40% of my course grade and if my professor won’t let me take it late, my GPA will be fucked. If my GPA is fucked I lose my academic scholarship which basically means I can’t pay for school anymore and I’ll have to drop out. On top of that, my last paycheck got fell into the street and got run over by a cab. So that’s where I’m at in life.”

Neither of them spoke when Jamie finished. She didn’t dare look up at Steve, either. He was probably looking at her in that sad way people do when they feel bad for you but can’t do anything about it. She’s seen enough of that look throughout her life and she really didn’t feel like seeing it from another stranger. Especially not one that looks like he doesn’t have a problem in the world. At least not a problem money can solve. 

But when she finally raised her head, Steve wasn’t staring at her with pity. He was looking at her like he understood exactly what she was going through. 

“I guess that explains your situation pretty well, then.” He said, his gaze softening. 

All Jamie could do was nod. Because yeah, it was probably pretty self-explanatory after that point. No money=no life in New York. Tragic tale as old as time. 

Their coffee arrived a moment later, a porcelain mug and almond croissant being set in front of Jamie, but it went unnoticed as Steve continued to study her from across the table. He picked up his drink and brought it to his lips, taking a sip as Jamie fiddled with the cloth napkin in her lap. She wondered what in the hell he could be thinking about because the two of them sitting there in silence after _that_ monologue made everything all the more embarrassing. 

“Where do you go to school?”

She raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Steve took another sip, gesturing for her to try her drink also while repeating, “Where do go to school?”

“Um…” She considered if whether telling a complete stranger where she went to school was a good idea, but decided she’d gamble with chance. “NYU, why?”

Steve’s expression lit up at her words, making the situation even more bizarre before saying, “Well, I know some of the professors there so I might be able to help you in that regard.”

Jamie snorted. She seriously couldn’t have run into someone who is rich, saves lives, AND personally knows NYU faculty. No chance in hell. 

Half-seriously, she asked, “Any chance you know a Dr. Banner?”

Steve laughed and set down his mug. “Bruce? Yeah, he’s an old college buddy of mine.” 

“You’re shitting me.” 

“Nope, not shitting you.” He grinned, pulling out his phone. 

“Wait-” Jamie scrambled for any type of response because he couldn’t really know her professor, right? That’s too much of a goddamn coincidence and she doubted she’d be able to comprehend any other crazy thing happening today. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sure if I send him an email he’ll let you take your midterm no problem.” 

“But...” Actually it’d be pretty damn cool if things worked out just like that. The only thing is that in real life, men in dress suits don’t just pop into your life and offer to fix your problems at the drop of a hat. It only happens in movies and she’s seen Pretty Woman enough times to know that when those older men start offering to do things for you, it only really leads to one thing. And yeah the guy was handsome, but she wasn’t prepared for that kind of lifestyle just yet. “Why would you do that for me? You don’t even know me.”

That made Steve pause. He looked up at her from where he was tapping on his phone and then back down at it like he wasn’t quite sure how to answer her. “I don’t know...It just seems like the right thing to do.”

“Yeah but- it’s not like you have to.” 

“Well, do you want me to?”

Now it was Jamie’s turn to pause. Did she want him to? Regardless of how crazy this whole situation was, she had to admit it would be rad as hell to not worry about how and if she’d be able to take that exam. She could focus her stress on finding a job and check at least one thing off of her insane to-do list that seemed to keep growing and growing. And she could tell Peter that for once she had some level of shit handled. Even if it wasn’t her  _ technically _ doing the handling. 

“As long as it doesn’t sound...weird.”

Steve studied her for a moment like he was deciding whether or not she meant it, before chuckling and turning back to his phone. “I’ll be sure not to mention the aliens that were involved, then.” As he typed, he nodded nonchalantly to the drink still sitting untouched in front of her and added with a hint of playfulness. “You gonna drink that or am I gonna have to buy you another one?”

Jamie allowed herself a tiny smile, picking up the mug while Steve tapped away at his screen. He was a little funny, she’d give him that. A  _ little _ . Situation was still beyond strange, though. 

She completely forgot every worry once she took a sip. “ _ Oh my god _ ..”

Steve barely glanced up from his phone, smirking slightly. “Take it my choice was right?”

Jamie didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer, but her empty cup in less than two minutes was answer enough according to his smug face.

The damn croissant was bomb too.

 

\---

 

Jamie told Steve that she was fine taking the subway back to her apartment. She still had some money left on her metrocard and then she could catch the bus for a nickel or so from there. But Steve just shushed her, insisting that the least he could do was pay for a cab to take her home considering all the shit she had going on. And while fair, she still thought it was unnecessary.

Nonetheless, she found herself in the back of a taxi (a surprisingly nice one because of fucking course) with Steve slipping the cab driver a fifty in advance. Then he closed the door, shooting a wave and devastatingly handsome smile her way as the cab pulled out into the street, and all Jamie could so was lean her head back against the seat with a little laugh to herself. Guess the worst day of her life didn’t turn out to be the worst day after all. 

She turned her head to glance out the window, watching the masses outside with a different perspective than she had that morning. She wondered whether she’d see Steve again out of all the people out there. 

_ Hmm. Probably not. _


End file.
